


Body Electric

by Punxutawney



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Old work, Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-22
Updated: 2008-01-22
Packaged: 2018-07-24 18:51:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7519381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punxutawney/pseuds/Punxutawney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elle has a new plaything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body Electric

**Author's Note:**

> Backing up stuff here. Written in 2008.

She stretches - tries to stretch - her arms, bound back with a chain that, at first, was freezing cold against her wrists. It's warmer now, but tight, still. Too tight, and the stretching makes it dig into her skin, painfully. Elle has learned well during her company years. 

She perplexes Claire, the maniac mix of little girl innocence and psychotic sadism, coated with sugar-sweet smiles and sharp teeth - sharp, both figuratively and literally. Her education consists of learning how to make people hurt the worst way possible, how to reach their insides and - now, quite literally - boil them alive.

She's much older than Claire, but there's a confusing, almost charming naivety in her eyes as she experimentally touches the cheerleader's breast, an amazed look on her face, as if she had fancied herself the only one of her kind. As if her own breasts were the only curves she's ever laid her eyes on. Then, her hard, polished nails sink into the soft flesh around Claire's nipple, and she _twists_ , so painfully, so deliciously, so knowingly. As if she'd done this a thousand times to a thousand blonde cheerleaders at her mercy, chained to a chair in a room with no windows, void of color. Maybe she has, maybe it's a treat her dad would serve her after a job well done. Claire knows not, nor does she care to know as Elle's smirking mouth curves around her hurt nipple, all warm, wet tongue and nibbling teeth.

Elle's hand is still held still on Claire's flat stomach. As the tip of her tongue swirls around, she closes her eyes, and Claire can nearly feel it before it actually happens, the blue-white sparks lighting up the dim room. Claire's not used to it yet, and she wonders hazily if she ever will, the little electric shocks being always a little more intense than she expects. Perhaps Elle's just giving her more and more every time. It still hurts, but she's starting to await the sparks now, taking a bit of sick pride in being able to draw them out of Elle. She knows it's really not her own doing, because Elle is the type to get off on dominating anyone, not only her. It's still satisfying, and it's not like there are many things to be proud of around anymore. Claire bites her lip.

Elle opens her eyes and pulls back, that sickeningly sweet smirk decorating her reddened lips again. Claire's still got her skirt on, and Elle slides her hand slowly down, fingertips not sparking although Claire could swear there's an electric current pinching her skin. Her own eyes close as her skirt zipper is being pulled open, the skirt slid off completely. Elle is still fully clothed, all black today to create a contrast to her pale skin and platinum hair. She likes to show she's in control, every way.

Her deceivingly soft fingers draw languid lines up Claire's thigh. This is already a familiar path, but the tenderness makes Claire always a little surprised, draw in a breath, and wait for the storm. Her panties are moist already, have been for ages, and when she thinks about how merely seeing Elle these days makes a tingly, impatient feeling creep up between her legs, she remembers something about school and dogs and - it doesn't matter, why should it matter in this life anymore, when Elle is breathing heavily onto her thighs, lips and tongue and teeth ready to make her tender flesh sore and red. She's getting impatient too, Claire is almost sure she can tell even with her eyes closed now. She feels the panties being pulled off, too, slid down her thighs and legs, being thrown away. She doesn't object when her legs are spread apart with a violent jerk. A little cold air tries to scare her skin, but her bloodbeat is too strong now to let her cool down.

Elle laughs, a breathy laughter of a delighted child with an adult's voice. The kind of laughter to turn you on, then make you feel ashamed for being aroused. Her fingers wander higher, lips following, touches turning into kisses turning into sucking turning into biting, slowly but surely making their way upward. Claire's breathing grows heavy, her head dizzy and her own voice a distant, strange flow of moans and foreign words. Someone else's words fill her mouth and she squeezes her eyes shut even tighter, when Elle's fingers brush lightly over her swollen and aching clitoris. There's a tiny pause, a sweet torturous pause before her tongue laves over Claire's hot, sweet, young flesh, not so innocent anymore but willing and open, welcoming her fingers and mouth. Her licks are long and slow, as if she was consuming an ice-cream cone, trying to make the enjoyment last as long as she can.

Claire is writhing now, and the rough chain that keeps her tied clanks against the back of the chair, biting into her wrists once again, but now the pleasure is stronger than the pain, which will fade just like the bruises and little cuts, her lower lip being constantly torn under her teeth and healing again, little sprinkles of blood left on her chin, and she can't take it anymore, she has to open her mouth, gasp for air, scream -

Elle is giggling now, and the sound mingles with Claire's panting. She pulls back licking her lips, replacing her tongue with a thumb, rubbing Claire through her spasms. As Claire opens her eyes, she stands up, looking only a slightly disarranged. Her cheeks are glowing a little, but her smile is as sweet as ever, and she shows no signs of being close to bursting into flame, which is exactly how Claire feels like herself. Elle studies Claire's appearance for a while, then promptly walks to the door. Before disappearing again, she quickly turns to glance at Claire. Her goodbyes are delivered with a little blue-white spark.

"Oh, by the way, your daddy says hello."


End file.
